"The Concrete Overcoat Affair, Part II" (ep. 3/12)

As we'd hope, Part II sweeps forward from Part I and builds to an epic climax worthy of a thriller novel or a theatrical movie.  Bill Koenig mentions that this was the most expensive hour of TV entertainment up to that time, and it shows.

I love that, when Solo seizes his chance to escape Strago and must leave Pia behind, he shouts to her, "I'll be back."  And the next scene, as Waverly and Solo come into Del Floria's and clash at the door to the big guy's office over Solo's determination to rescue Pia and Illya, is justly famous as a Season One-like, truly human moment.  A part of me wishes that Solo had not backed down, had fished out his credentials and tossed them onto the desk in front of Waverly and turned on his heel to go, only to be called back by Waverly . . . but the scene sings anyway.  (And Waverly calls the Del Floria's staffer "Bill."  How neat is that?)

How do Alex & Co. know what Thrush is up to vis-à-vis the Gulf Stream, though?  At the end of Part I, they were still trying to find out what Strago needed heavy water for.  Illya discovers a missile on the docks, but Miss Diketon captures him before he can report it; while Solo escapes Strago, he doesn't know about the missile; and in any case neither of them knows what the missile is for.  How has Waverly divined the plot?  (That's it -- he has a Delphic oracle concealed behind his comm console!)

Strago's island defenses are appropriately larger-than-life and science-fictional, as is the entire project to turn Greenland into Thrush's own tropical paradise.  Hey, if you're gonna be evil, go all the way.  It would be a letdown were Strago plotting merely to rob the Bank of England or something.

We should have seen Solo jumping up from the speedboat's wheel and staggering toward the stern in the instant before the speedboat blows; this would have made his escape a bit more plausible.  He looks as much at home on the Stillettos' craft, in jacket and knit watch cap, as he did in the same outfit in "Shark."

Pia Monteri is no shrinking Innocent.  She doesn't panic, dispatches Miss Diketon handily, and yet displays kindness to her former opponent.  (Fan fiction suggestion:  Following the success of April Dancer, Solo recruits Pia for Section Two!)

Miss Diketon's switching sides is well-motivated.  It's not only to save her own neck (I'm sure she doesn't think she'll be merely transferred), but to revenge herself on Strago for spurning her.  (Trivia:  I read someplace, possibly in Jon Heitland's book, that Janet Leigh's kids were big U.N.C.L.E. fans and were thrilled to have their mom on the show.  One of those kids went on to star in an U.N.C.L.E.-like thriller, too.)

Will Kuluva's Mr. Thaler is the perfect high-level bureaucrat: all starch and propriety until, away from the home office and his wife, it's time to go wild.  One imagines him in Billy Wilder's "The Apartment," using Jack Lemmon's digs for his assignations and groping secretaries along with Fred MacMurray at the Christmas party.

The last two acts are remarkably exciting, with startling camera angles and a ticking clock like all good thrillers.  And for once, I don't mind the light-hearted tag scene at the pizzeria (in Chicago, I presume).  The previous hour has been so strong that we need a chuckle at the end.

Verdict: An odd mix (satire, drama, and a chick fight!) featuring a James Bondian threat and colorful sets like the control room and the red-lit conveyor tunnel, "Concrete Overcoat" is the most entertaining episode yet of Season Three.

Memorable Lines:
Waverly (to himself, as he lets Solo race after Pia and Illya):  "Alexander Waverly.  Hmf.  Sentimental grandmother of the year --!"

Von Kronen (softly, to Miss Diketon): "I cannot forget how beautifully you tortured that U.N.C.L.E. agent. . . .  I admire you very much.  Bravo!"
Miss Diketon (clearly flattered): "Oh, that's awfully sweet.  From a real professional like you!"

Mr. Thaler (Thrush's Man in the Green Hat): "Oh, the faithful Miss Diketon.  More beautiful than ever. . . .  You'd be a fortunate man, Strago, if you were human."

Mr. Thaler: "Well!  We certainly can't have corruption in Thrush, can we?  But don't transfer [Miss Diketon], Strago.  Just kill her and have done with it, will you?  Save all that annoying paperwork."

Illya (after being ambushed, by mistake, by Solo): "I bring Lucrezia Borgia, and you bring the Mafia.  We're in great shape."

"The Concrete Overcoat Affair, Part I" (ep. 3/11)

We can thank Norman Felton, as we do on so many levels, for his vision of releasing U.N.C.L.E. two-parters as movies; without that, and the corresponding bump in the budget, a "big" episode such as this wouldn't have been possible.  It's an odd mix in places, this one, Peter Allan Fields's only script this year, and sometimes the pieces don't fit as smoothly as we'd like . . . but it works.

The opener to Act I, as the bandaged Solo and Illya make their way to Waverly's office, is iconic.  (I'll bet new staffers are continually startled by seeing damaged Enforcement guys limping in to work.)  Maybe I'm slow, but I suspect that the room where they meet Waverly is not his regular office, but a special map room -- perhaps something like Capt. Picard's "ready room."  We've seen it before, and though it has windows and a couch along the rear wall, it seems smaller than the regular office, which appears in Act III.

I love Janet Leigh's sparkling, sadistic masochist, Miss Diketon, she of the thigh knife and misplaced affection for Jack Palance's Strago.  It's in this story, too, that we have the famous brief torture scene, where Miss D. uses an ultrasonic whip (?) on the captured Illya.  In his "Man from U.N.C.L.E. Book," Jon Heitland describes Miss D. as being somewhat masculine, but to me there's nothing at all masculine about her.  Sick, yes; too sick even for Thrush, possibly; but masculine?  Heck no.

Strago is hard to figure: a twitching bundle of savage neuroses and anxieties, nauseated by Miss Diketon's attentions yet inflamed by Pia the Innocent, as we'll see in Part II.  (Disposing of a valuable trained man like Luger is rather wasteful of personnel, too, except that it impresses ex-Nazi Von Kronen.)  Sometimes Palance's performance slips over the edge; but he must have had a lot of fun on this one, since so many of his roles have been of the quiet dangerous type.

Calling their country-to-be "Thrushland" makes it sound like an amusement park.  ("Step right up, folks!  Ask the Ultimate Computer a question, any question!")

As in "Deadly Goddess," Solo avoids a shotgun wedding; but here, he is not simply relieved to escape, but worried for Pia.  Her branding as a "ruined" woman, he feels, is due to him, and he wants to go back, explain, and exonerate her.

He pronounces "gracias" with the Castilian "th," suggesting that he learned what Spanish he knows from actual Spaniards rather than in Latin America.  It also sounds like he tells Illya "cow" instead of "ciao" -- a gag?

The big joke here is that Pia's American uncles, the Stilletto Brothers, would all fit neatly into a Warner's 1938 gangster flick -- except that they're all 60 or more.  Eduardo Giannelli's "Fingers," in particular, has the true Mafioso flavor and could have stepped right out of "The Godfather" (which hadn't been written yet, of course).

Agreed, Nelson Riddle's music during the action at Strago's warehouse is far too "Batman"-like, as are a lot of moves (the "pineapple" bit, for example).  This is balanced by the point that the Stiletto Brothers, who could have been played strictly for laughs, are clearly professional and deadly.  Note Strago's warning about them to his men: ". . . During the Prohibition days, they could have and would have torn either one of you apart for the price of a cigar."

Verdict:  Sharply directed by Joseph Sargent, who helmed several Season One and Two classics, it moves fast, makes good use of complex sets and colorful locations (e.g., the parade and the well-realized village of Taforna), and lacks only a stronger hook to bring us to Part II.

Memorable Lines:
Strago (chastising Miss Diketon):  "The Uniform Code of Thrush Procedure states quite clearly that the relationship between a Thrush official and an employee must be kept on the highest level!"

Strago:  "I can't tell you, Doctor, how much we've been looking forward to your arrival."
Von Kronen:  "Ja.  They've been looking forward to my arrival in Nuremberg, too.  They're still looking."

Solo (sotto voce, on communicator, as Grandmama Monteri waves her shotgun):  "Illya, come in, little friend. . . ."
Illya:  "Yes, Napoleon.  How is your burgeoning romance?"
Solo:  "It threatens to burgeon too far."

Solo (to "Fingers" Stilletto, as they prepare for his wedding to Pia in Chicago):  "I'm not Italian, you know."
Stilletto:  "It's all right.  Try to be proud anyway."